


Nightmare

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 05:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: The reader has been plagued with nightmares for weeks over a man in a suit and tweed cap. When she bumps into him on a dark night though, he claims to be something else altogether…





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Not entirely sure if I’ll be continuing this but I really just want some more Michael!Dean right now...

“Hello,” you heard from the alley. You grabbed your spray out of your purse, determined to get back to your car. “It’s rude not to reciprocate a greeting, Y/N.”

“Who the hell...” you said, turning around, seeing the man who was speaking to you. He was exactly the same as the one that’d been showing up in your nightmares for weeks now. Same suit, same coat, same hat. Same smile that you still weren’t sure how to feel about.

“The name’s Michael,” he said, stepping closer, glancing at the spray in your hand. “That won’t do anything to me. I have a feeling you already know that.”

“How...” you said, the man tutting, a chill in the air and you knew it was better to keep quiet.

“Quick learner. I like that,” he said, lifting his chin, walking around you at a snail's pace. “Crash course version, I’m Michael, the archangel. I’m currently wearing a man name Dean Winchester, a simple human. This human invited me in to his body so I could have a vessel here on earth. This human, Dean, I did not realize this at first but by having him as my true vessel, I awakened something in someone else. In you, Y/N.”

“In me?” you asked. Michael nodded, walking back in front of you.

“See...you are connected to me. The nightmares you’ve been having...that’s all been me,” he said. You took a step back, Michael giving you a cold smile. “Don’t fear little one. I would not do any permanent damage to someone as important as you.”

“Important?” you asked.

“Yes. You are able to see these things in your dreams because you are Dean Winchester’s soulmate,” he said.

“I’ve never heard of this guy,” you said.

“I suppose a normal girl like yourself wouldn’t,” he said. “But soulmates are forever, Y/N. You were chosen to be Dean’s. As Dean has given himself to me, that makes you mine.”

“I don’t think so, buddy,” you said, attempting to turn away and start walking, something hold you firm in place though. “What are you doing?”

“I see this is going to take some time,” he said, stepping forward, placing a finger on your cheek as if he were inspecting you. “First and only warning. Do things my way willingly.”

“Or what?” you said. His lip twitched up for a split second, almost as if he were happy with Your defiance.

“Fine. We get to do this another way.”

 

**One Week Later**

You were starving. Literally. At first you thought Michael was all talk. Why would he take you just to kill you? After he dropped you off in the cold basement, nothing at all there apart from a few gallons of water stacked against the wall, you guessed that this angel was just as bad as all of the things you’d seen him do in your nightmares.

The door was no use and your back hurting from the cement floor probably would have been bothering you more than it was if your stomach wasn’t shriveling in on itself. Not to mention the nightmares still hadn’t stopped.

“Y/N,” you heard cut through the dim room, Michael standing right next to you. “Hello.”

“Stay away from me,” you said, backing up against a wall, staring up at him. He knelt down and pressed two fingers against your forehead. For a moment you felt a cozy warm, all of your soreness and hunger gone.

“It’s better to talk when you aren’t distracted by human needs,” he said, turning away, clasping his hands behind his back.

“What do you want from me psycho,” you said.

“That’s not a nice word, Y/N,” he said, stepping aside. You were suddenly thrown across the floor to the middle of the room, rolling onto your back, staring up at Michael. “You’re not a fan of spiders, hm?”

“What…” you said, bolting upright when you saw a small fuzzy thing in the corner.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he said, proofing out of there. You moved back as the fuzzy thing came closer, jumping when you saw there was more than one.

“Oh you asshole. I’m gonna…” you trailed off, more coming from that side of the basement. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

You backed into a corner, the floor covered in them, all converging towards you.

“Michael! Stop it!” you shouted. “Michael! Get back here!”

You called out for him until your voice went hoarse, eventually realizing the things were stopping a few inches away. As long as you stood still, they left you alone.

It was hours and hours later, one leg going through violent muscle cramps, the other shaking in order to get some relief for the other one. You were exhausted, too tired to be afraid anymore.

You shut your eyes, a shooting pain going up your back. You winced as you felt your one leg finally give out.

The feeling of being horrified as those things covered you never came though. You opened your eyes, no longer in the basement, instead on a soft bed. Your exhaustion and pain were gone, a glass of water on the nightstand. Sipping at it, you noticed you were no longer wearing your old work clothes A pair of tight black skinny jeans, combat boots, a dark gray flannel over a black neck and a bomber jacket were now on you.

“Ever hear of a little color dude,” you mumbled, standing up, figuring better to face the music sooner than later. You opened the door to a hallway, walking down it and a set of stairs, winding up in a kitchen.

Michael had his back to you, coat and suit jacket off, humming to himself while he worked over a stove.

“Sit,” he said. You took a seat on the bottom step, Michael chuckling. “Sit down at the table, Y/N.”

You swallowed as you walked to a chair, standing behind it while you looked at the back door, only a few feet away.

“Y/N,” he sang song and you quickly sat, Michael turning around, setting a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of you. “Eat.”

You looked around for a fork, finding one there suddenly, a knife as well. You ate quietly under his gaze, stomach grateful for something in it, even if you weren’t all that hungry. When you finished, you pushed the plate forward, Michael lifting his chin.

“What?” you asked.

“Manners,” he said.

“Thank you for giving me food after kidnapping me and mentally scaring me,” you said, giving him a short smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said. He stood and took the plate away, patting your head as he went past. You glared at him, staring at the back door once more. “Run and the next thing I do to you, you’ll be begging to be scared by a few little spiders again over that.”

“What do you want from me?” you asked, taking a deep breathe. Playing along was probably your only option to get out of this alive so you had to take it, no matter what.

“I can read your mind, silly girl,” he said, suddenly right behind you, tapping a finger on your temple. “There is no playing along. There is no hiding from me.”

“What do you want?” you said again, his fingers pressing into your jaw.

“I’m more powerful with you near, plain and simple,” he said.

“Why not keep me locked up in the basement then,” you said.

“Because I travel often and a well behaved...partner, works better than an unruly pet. If you want to be the pet, that’s your choice,” he said.

“Why would I ever be your partner?” you scoffed.

“Because I said so,” he said, brushing his lips over your ear. “Because there is a fundamental part of you that will do anything for your soulmate.”

“You’re not my soulmate,” you said.

“No. But Dean is,” said Michael.

“I don’t know him,” you said.

“No, you don’t,” said Michael. “Doesn’t change the facts.”

“What facts?” you said, Michael resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Perhaps I should show you what your soulmate is experiencing at the moment,” he said. You opened your mouth but Michael simply touched a finger to your neck, a sudden feeling of drowning hitting you. You lungs and throat burned, body screaming at you. Your hands shot up to your neck but Michael only gave you a hard stare. “Dean’s been living like this for a month.”

You took in a deep breath and coughed, Michael nodding his head at you.

“Play nice. I can give you the things you want in return,” he said.

“What exactly do I want from a psycho angel like you?” you growled, standing up and shrugging away from him.

“Purpose. You’ve been wandering aimlessly through most of your life. This is an opportunity to be part of something...special,” he said.

“I’ll pass,” you said. Next thing you knew, you were in the basement, something foul smelling in the air. You covered your nose as best you could, the burnt smell awful as you tried to block it out. You looked around for the source, only a second passing before you felt it.

Hot, searing, bubbling pain.

Your legs looked like they were on fire, felt on fire despite no flames being present. The skin was turning a different color, nerves screaming as you fell to the floor, swatting at them, the door to the room opening after a moment.

“Now,” said Michael, leaning over, resting his hands on his knees. “Ask very nicely and maybe I’ll stop.”

“I don’t understand what you want from me!” you shouted at him, grabbing his arm with a groan. “Please stop.”

“Fine,” he said, snapping his fingers. You threw your head back in relief, wide eyed when flames appeared behind you. You jumped up, hot fire flicking all around you, a small space in front of Michael the only one that was safe. You jogged over to him and backed up to his chest, the flames cutting off as he hummed. “Are you done with the games?”

“A-all I have to do is be with you?” you asked, tilting your head back.

“Yes,” said Michael. You couldn’t even say a word before you were both gone, outside somewhere, the sky dark.

“Where-”

You whined when he shoved you down on the ground and you suddenly felt cold air on your back. You tried to cover yourself, thankful for the bra that was still on but Michael’s hand on the back of your neck kept you still.

“Relax, little one,” he murmured, stroking his thumb over the sensitive skin. “None of those bad thoughts in your head are about to happen. Well...apart from me hurting you.”

“Michael…” you breathed out, a sharp point pressing against your shoulder, entire body freezing in place. Your scream got caught in your throat when he dug in, carving something into your shoulder. You tried to squirm but he straddled your hips and pinned you down easily, going over the marks he’d made again, another shout stopped short of escaping.

You could feel the blood down your back for a moment, Michael’s hand on you swallowing away the pain. You sighed and rested your head on the ground, Michael moved away, soft warmth covering you again as you’d gotten the rest of your clothes back.

“Ownership,” said Michael, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. “You may not be able to see it, but you are on a short leash. Very. Earn your place and maybe it goes away.”

“I hate you,” you grumbled, fixing your shirt, Michael grabbing your jacket collar.

“You shouldn’t speak again until you learn manners,” he said. There was a sudden pressure on your throat, not unpleasant but when you tried to get a sound to come out, all that could be heard were quiet whimpers. “Yes, that’s much better.”

You stared at him, Michael chuckling.

“Don’t pout. You’ll be staying like this as long as say so.”

 

**Three Months Later**

The blood and gore didn’t bother you so much now. Neither did the people, well the monsters, that begged and pleaded with you to help them. Or the monsters that wanted a bite. If you were grateful for one thing, it was that Michael was fiercely protective of you. You were confident he wouldn’t let any of the creatures he spoke to harm you, even if a few had taken interest before.

You were outside late at night, Michael doing something in a church. You were sat on the stone step outside, shivering under the cold rain. Things that ordinarily would have hurt or killed you, Michael took care of those. Sometimes he kept you up for days, forgot to give you food, forgot you needed rest. He’d zap it all away like nothing happened. The need was always still there though.

You were going on a day of no sleep, jacket soaked through, knees tucked into your chest. You’d been through worse, had worse days than this. But for some reason, today it was all just too much.

You tried to speak, breaking down when your voice never came. You cried quietly, not much noise to be made really. You tried to push it back down but that just opened another flood gate.

“Michael…” you whispered, the shock of hearing yourself again stopping the tears for a moment. You glanced behind you, Michael standing there. You wiped your face with the back of your hand but started to bawl again, his hand fisting in your jacket.

Where ever he took you, it was cozy and dry, your wet clothes gone, warm pajamas on in their place. You managed to lift your head, in a small but nice cottage, close to a fireplace. You bit your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut as he pulled you closer to him. It felt as though when you sat down you were in his lap, one peek of your eyes opening revealing he was sat on a couch, his coat gone, hat sat on top of it close by. Your hands fisted in his shirt, hating that he was the reason you were like this, hating that he was the only thing that made it feel a little better.

“Rest, little one,” he shushed, his arms around you. “Sleep.”

 

You woke up warm and most certainly in someone’s arms. Your face was not tear stained like it should have been and your clothes were not damp. You blinked a few times, spotting a cloudy day outside a window, gaze lifting to meet Michael’s. You ducked your head down, uncertain what he was planning on doing to you.

“Y/N,” he said. You snapped your head up, making your face hard. He gave a short smile, brushing his thumb under your eye. “I have never seen you cry until last night.”

You didn’t move and held his stare, Michael’s face turning softer.

“It was unpleasant,” he said. You lowered your head, one of his silent signals for an apology you’d picked up over the months. “Use your words.”

“I’m sorry, Michael,” you said quietly, closing your eyes, fighting off another round of tears.

“Why are you crying again?” he asked.

“I’m weak. I’ll never have control over my own life again. I thought I was a strong person but I’m pathetic, just like you wanted me to be,” you said.

“You’ve shown great strength,” he said. “There is strength in letting go, Y/N. I provide things for you that you need, do I not?”

“If you would…” you started, bottom lip wobbling again. Talking back got your voice taken away for three months. You didn’t want to know how long it would be for this time. “Yes, you do. Thank you.”

“Please. Speak your mind. There are no consequences,” he said. You stared at him, fidgeting your hands in your lap. “I promise.”

“I don’t need you to provide things for me. I got food and water and a bed all on my own before you took me. You...you stole those things from me so I could be some silent witness to all of these deals you’re working with monsters? So you can keep me as a pet for when you decide to end the world?” you said, tears flowing freely down your face.

“Perhaps...things need to alter. I do not enjoy this...human reaction you have. But I was intrigued when you turned to me for comfort last night. I was quite pleased,” he said.

“Of course you were,” you said, Michael cupping your cheek, your head turning into it.

“Your bond with the vessel is growing,” said Michael. “This is a good thing, Y/N. It’s what we both want.”

“It’s not what I want,” you said.

“What do you want?” he asked. You stared at him, Michael raising an eyebrow. “Him? A man you’ve never met?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna save him from you,” you said, wiping off your face. “You tricked him or hurt him into saying yes to you.”

“No. He said yes of his own free will,” said Michael. “He did it out of love. I will ask again what you want and this time, you will tell me exactly what it is you want most and you will not lie to me.”

You swallowed and looked at your lap, taking a deep breath. The first thing that popped into your head wasn’t so much a want but a need. You knew he was listening in so it didn’t matter all that much anyways.

“I want you to be nicer to me,” you said. Michael tilted his head and moved you off of his lap, standing and disappearing. You looked around for him, not like him to take off on his own without you.

“Here,” he said. You looked up, Michael handing a blanket to you. A blanket that looked like one you used to own. You took it from his hands and unfolded it, spotting the corner where you fixed the stitching months ago.

“Thank you,” you said, Michael pressing on your shoulder for you to lay down.

“Sleep. You’re still weak,” he said. You pulled the fleece over yourself, smiling at having that little bit of home back.

 

When you woke, you heard a rustling in the kitchen but Michael was not making any food. You looked over the back of the couch, Michael nodding.

“The kitchen has been stocked. If you do not have something you need, ask me for it and I will retrieve it,” he said, pulling on his coat and hat.

“Where are we going?” you asked, getting to your feet.

“I am leaving. You are staying. I’m meeting with someone important and having you there is dangerous,” he said, fixing his coat collar. “Prepare yourself food and take care of your human needs. I will return sometime tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving me alone?” you asked. He barely spared you a glance before he was gone. It took a little while for you to believe you were truly alone, took even longer for you to go to the kitchen and whip up some pasta.

You weren’t there long before you heard the door kick down. You hit the floor, praying Michael wasn’t pissed at you for whatever he was going to be pissed at.

“Get up!” shouted a loud voice. You peeked your head up, a dark haired man in a trench coat staring at you. “Where’s Michael?”

“I don’t…” you said, the man pulling out a blade like Michael had. “Are you an angel?”

“...You’re coming with me.”

 

The ride in the man’s truck was long but you relished the normalcy of it. He didn’t eat, just like Michael, but he did stop for food and drinks for you. You were somewhere in Kansas when he pulled to a stop on a dirt road, motioning for you to get out. He waved you to follow him through a garage and down some steps, the man stopping once you were in a hall.

“We have been driving for nearly two days and you never once tried to leave. You never even said a word,” he said.

“You’re an angel,” you said. He cocked his head but grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, his touch quite softer than you were expecting.

He pulled you into a large room, people around. Michael was there, giving a hug to a young man.

“Dean,” said the angel you’d been with. Michael turned around and gave him a smile, staring at you with a blank face.

“Y/N?” he said, voice different, lighter but heavier all at once. You tilted your head, the man stepping over, stopping in front of you. “I’m Dean.”

“Hi,” you said quietly. You carefully reached out a hand and touched his chest.

“Not him anymore,” Dean said, so quietly you barely heard it.

“She was at the cabin we tracked Michael to,” said Cas.

“I know,” said Dean. “I don’t know her, just remember glimpses really. But she’s not a threat.”

“You need to tell us everything you know about Michael,” said a tall man with a beard. “Please.”

“I can try.”

 

You didn’t leave your room that much your first week there. Sam and Cas asked you a lot of questions but gave you space to rest too. You hadn’t seen Dean since that first night, wondering if he was hiding away too. Saturday night you were sitting in the library with some dinner, a book about angels in front of yourself when you heard the floor creak. You turned and there was Dean, in a flannel and jeans, paused from where he’d been reaching for a bottle of whiskey next to the fridge.

“Hi,” you said with a mouthful of food.

“Uh hi,” he said, giving you a friendly smile as he picked up his bottle. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“S’okay,” you said, taking a bite of your grilled cheese sandwich. “Want some?”

You held up the plate with another sandwich on it. Dean fiddled with the bottle in his hand before he grabbed two glasses, came around the table and sat across from you. He poured two glasses, one a double, exchanging the food for the drink.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip, Dean easily knocking his back and digging into the food. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” he asked, slowing down his chewing.

“Are you alright?” you asked. “After everything.”

“Are you alright?” he asked. You shook your head, Dean returning a sad smile. “There’s your answer.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” you said.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” said Dean.

“You didn’t,” you said.

“If we weren’t...he would have left you alone. You wouldn’t have been dragged into this. We can’t even let you go back home in case he comes after you again,” said Dean. “Your entire life was ruined because I said yes to him.”

“You said yes to save your family and stop Lucifer, right? It sounds like you saved the world,” you said.

“Not gonna let me feel shitty, are you?” he said, a sad smile on his face as he set his sandwich down.

“I can’t even imagine him having control like that,” you said.

“You can imagine a bit,” he said.

“He said you were drowning in there.”

“I remember hearing you tell him where to shove it,” said Dean.

“He was telling the truth about us, wasn’t he,” you said. Dean hummed and poured himself a refill. “At least you’re cute.”

“You don’t see me as Michael?” he asked gently, taking a shallow sip from his glass.

“No. You’re different. The way you hold yourself, speak and look...you’re kind,” you said. “Someone good.”

“You don’t even know me, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I don’t. Maybe you and me can try to start feeling like our old selves together.”

“If you knew me, you’d know my old self ain’t much better than this,” he said, popping the last bit of sandwich in his mouth and wiping off his hands.

“Dean?” you asked as he went to stand, pausing himself halfway up. “I’m not saying we suddenly have to be madly in love or anything. I’m just...I get what Michael is like if you want to talk or not talk or just go grab a bite and get out of this place sometime, I’m here for that. I’m useless at this hunting stuff so maybe I can try to be a friend instead.”

“...Do you want to watch a movie or go catch one? It’s not that late,” he said, shrugging as he righted himself. “If you want.”

“Yeah. It sounds like fun.”

 

**Two Weeks Later**

“Hey, Y/N. Got a sec?” asked Dean, rattling his knuckles on your door. You popped your head up from your journal, Dean smirking. “Doing Sammy’s homework?”

“You know, this research part of hunting I think I can handle pretty well,” you said, Dean peering over your shoulder.

“Your Wendigo looks like a toddler drew that,” he said, chuckling and quickly dodging your whack to his arm. “Actually I was wondering if you wanted to go on a hunt with me. It’s a milk run, restless ghost but...I figured it would be a good start. Backup is always good to have.”

“You want to go on a hunt with me?” you asked, staring at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “We could grab that bite after...maybe talk about...stuff.”

“Sure. I didn’t take you for the talking type though,” you said, shutting your journal and tucking it away in your hunting bag.

“Well...you are my soulmate. If there’s anybody I’m ever gonna be able to talk to, it’s gonna be you,” he said.

“Good point,” you said. “Or like I said, we can just hang out too.”

“I know. That’s why I think this whole thing might work out,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “So...ghost then maybe some burgers?”

“You got it, Dean.”

 

Your hunt and date with Dean had gone nice and you were okay with taking things slow. You were just about asleep in bed that night when your door creaked open and Dean was standing there.

“Dean? What’s up?” you asked.

“You know how Michael did things to the monsters? Well...you don’t know exactly what he did but you know it was something. He did something to me too,” said Dean, something off about the smirk on his face. “Sort of turned me into a little...backup plan. See, he can slide on in this body any time he wants.”

“Michael,” you said, Dean’s face breaking out into a big smile.

“Dean’s a nice vessel. It’s like a suit that fits just perfect. You...we got off on a bad foot. I’ll be better this time. Pinky promise,” he said.

“Why would I-”

“Dean has all these bubbly feelings for you now...it makes my feelings from earlier clearer. I want you to be my partner not only for power but as someone to share this new world with,” he said.

“I’d rather rot in hell,” you said.

“Too bad for you, you won’t have a choice.”


End file.
